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Storms, June 8th

After lunch we hit a squall and it began to rain hard. The wind was increasing in strength and the sea looked dirty…Alan called for the four mates, told them in a matter-of-fact tone that he was expecting the weather to worsen…

The ship started to pitch heavily, and every time she thudded into the sea the bowsprit whipped in and out like a giant fishing pole…I asked Godfrey Wicksteed to estimate the wind force and he replied: “Force eight or nine.” This meant a wind of over forty miles an hour…

When all the sail was in and the wheel lashed, the ship lurched and rolled under bare poles.